Page 16 of The Single Father Upstairs

I started to plan what I now thought of as a party. I made lists of possible snacks for the humans and treats for Marmalade that Indigo could give her. Both Marmalade and Indigo would love that. My cat was very food-motivated and would give all the loves for a liver treat. Of course, fish crackers for the people to be in theme. I could even do fish sticks. Everyone liked fish sticks, right? No. Kids didn't like fish. And besides, who ate fish at a party? Best to stick with simple.

An hour later, I had a plan. Odds were, they weren't even going to come.

I went through my kitchen drawer that held odds and ends, found a piece of cardstock, and cut it into the shape of a fish. I addressed it to both of them, and pretended it was fromMarmalade. I read it a million times, added some glitter, and even put cat pawprints on it. It was ridiculous, or cute, or maybe ridiculously cute. But whatever it was, it was better than pretending nothing happened and willing it all to go away.

It was one thing to make the card and another to deliver it. I kept chickening out and leaving it on the counter for days.

“I can do this.” I walked up the stairs, my heart pounding the entire way, and I slid the invitation under his door. For a moment, I considered knocking and handing it to him, but I chickened out. Him not showing up was going to be bad enough. I couldn't handle a full-on rejection to my face.

Maybe they'd laugh and think it was a joke. Maybe he'd throw it away and not tell Indigo about it at all. Maybe he’d come. Whatever the outcome, at least I tried.

I jogged down the stairs and back to my apartment, closed the door, and leaned against it. “Well,” I said to Marmalade, “I guess we'll find out if he'll ever want to speak to me again, or if I managed to make a bad situation worse.”

She purred and meowed at the door.

“You think they're coming, sweetie?”

She meowed again.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Hopefully, she was right.

9

STELLAN

“Dad.”

The urgency in Indigo’s voice had me rushing to the front door. If Miles was drunk again and ranting about the tenants, I’d heft him down the stairs and read him the riot act. I might also suggest he join a group or get therapy to help with his alcohol addiction.

But my mate wasn’t outside, and I didn’t scent him as my daughter raced around waving something.

“We’ve been invited.”

Oh no, was this one of Jon’s mystery parties where we had to solve a whodunnit? There were always arguments between the tenants because “as a shifter, a criminal would never do that,” or “if he was a dragon, he’d just take his wings.” The who done it usually ended inwho I think did it andI’ll have my beast scare you if you disagree with medone it.

Poor Jon never learned, and each party ended in standoffs.

But Jon never used glitter on his invites. I doubted he even knew what that was. And the paper or card was in the shape of a fish. Were we going fishing or dining out?

I hope it’s fishing. My bear was enthusiastic, though if Indigo was with us, she’d stay on the riverbank while my beast frolicked in the water.

“We’re going.”

“Wait a minute.” After the cat incident with Miles, I was wary of “we have to do this” statements.

“It’s today at three.” She leaped around the living room, meowing.

“Can I see?”

My daughter threw the invite across the room, and I caught it.

She’s got a good aim, my bear noted.

“It’s from Miles, Dad.” Indigo got on tiptoes and looked over my shoulder. “You said he was a good guy after you talked to him.”

I sniffed the card. Why did it smell sweet? My bear loved sweet fruits like cherries, but he turned his nose up at the citrus aroma.